The Blue Box on Baker Street
by cactusnell
Summary: Sherlock and Molly have a couple of other worldly visitors.


Sherlock Holmes, the Great Detective (at least in his own mind), was striding quickly down Baker Streeet toward his flat. His companion, Dr. Molly Hooper, with her much shorter legs, was struggling to keep up. Sherlock had been discussing the lab results of his latest case with Molly, although it wasn't much of a discussion, more of a monologue, due to the distance between them caused by his longer strides, and his almost complete disregard of her few comments. Suddenly Sherlock came to a halt, looking into a adjacent alley with a puzzled expression.

"That shouldn't be there," he muttered. "They haven't been used since the '60's or thereabout, I believe".

Molly followed his gaze to a large blue box. A box which looked somewhat like an old-fashioned phone box. Sherlock then muttered to himself, relegating the strange box to a slot in his mind palace to be reviewed later, and continued on his way.

Meanwhile, the Doctor and his companion Rose sat at 221B Baker Street, sipping tea kindly offered by Mrs. Hudson.

"Why are we here, Doctor?", Rose inquired.

"This guy is facinating. Best deductive mind I've ever encountered. I've consulted him a few times in the past. But we're not here to work, really. I'm just checking in. You see, his biggest claim to fame will be as the father of the 'man who saved the world'. Just wanted to see how that project was going."

"You are really here to meet his son?"

"There is no son – yet. And sometimes I despair of there ever being one!" Seeing the puzzled look on Rose's face, he continued, "You'll understand better once you've met him."

"Well, he shouldn't get all the credit. I mean, after all, there has to be a mother involved, too! Who is she?"

"An absolutely brilliant woman!"

"Named?"

"Spoilers, Rose, spoilers," the Doctor smiled enigmatically.

The door burst open, and Sherlock filled the room. "Doctor, good to see you again. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He made no effort to introduce the woman standing at his side and casually ignored the woman standing at the Doctor's.

"Things to discuss, Sherlock. In private, if you don't mind." He smiled a friendly smile, and made a small bow in Molly's direction. She had never been dismissed in so kindly and gently a manner. Sherlock should take lessons. "Perhaps your girlfriend could take Rose into the kitchen and brew us up a pot of tea?" Sherlock bristled, Molly turned red, and Rose shrugged, turning toward the kitchen. Molly followed without a word.

Rose had been studying the man since he filled the doorway. He was very close to beautiful. Cheekbones that could cut like a knife, dark curls askew, and a mouth to die for! She couldn't understand why such a specimen would any trouble begetting children! She frowned a little when she noticed that the woman in the kitchen with her was studying _her_ Doctor with the same sort of appreciation. The two men were about the same height, both seemed to favor big coats covering their slender builds, and both had beautiful eyes. The Doctor's eyes were warm brown, like a vat of melted chocolate you wanted to drown in. They was kindness in his gaze, and humor in the tiny laugh lines around them. Sherlock's eyes were blue/green and piercing. You could get lost in them, but you'd have to bring a warm coat, they seemed so almost icily cold at times.

"He's very good-looking," Rose commented off-handedly as they worked on tea preparations.

"Which one?" Molly answered with a question and a smile.

Rose let out a small laugh, Molly joined in, and they soon found themselves sitting at the table engaged in easy conversation. Molly had been studying the younger woman, and the way she kept stealing glances at her Doctor. She had it bad. Perhaps almost as bad as herself.

"How long have you known the Doctor?"

"It seems like forever... really, you have no idea!"

Rose was beginning to understand that the woman across the table from her instinctively understood her predicament because Molly herself couldn't keep her gaze from lingering on the tall man with the beautiful curls.

"If you don't mind my saying so, it seems like we've _both_ got it bad," Rose said quietly.

"Well, mine doesn't seem to have a heart at all," Molly sighed.

"Mine has two, but that doesn't seem to help," Rose joined in the sigh.

"Sometimes he can make the most casually cruel remarks, not even realizing it. At other times he looks at me like I'm some sort of alien. But even that's better then when he doesn't notice me at all."

"Been there, done that. I mean the alien part. Not the cruel part. The Doctor's never cruel. Somedays I think he could kill me with kindness. But he does have a temper. I'd hate to be on the wrong side of that!"

Molly thought of Sherlock's temper. She had never been exposed to its full fury. Surely, she had been the victim a brief little fits of temper. But having seen the real thing, she understood what Rose was saying.

Molly and Rose looked up to see that Sherlock and the Doctor were standing at the kitchen door studying them. Both men seemed lost in thought for a moment, Sherlock especially. The Doctor reached down and gently pulled Roses's hand from the table, while Sherlock continued to study his pathologist/assistand/friend. When Molly rose to accompany them to the door of the flat, Sherlock followed close behind. She almost jumped when she felt his hand on the small of her back, guiding her gently.

"Goodbye, Doctor," Sherlock said in a curious sounding voice, "Perhaps we'll meet again?"

"Perhaps. Maybe we'll run into each other at some social gathering. A wedding? A christening? I hope to see you soon."

Just before the door closed on the Doctor and his companion, Molly noticed him wink knowingly at the detective. But she had no time to think any more about it, for Sherlock's hand was still on her back, and that was all that mattered.


End file.
